Got it on eBay
by Fangirls' Anonymous
Summary: What happens when you put a clueless money needing mech, and an unable to transform back Soundwave together? Ebay, of course. A G1 set, Soundwave bashing oneshot. Rated higher than what should be just incase.


I've had this idea for the longest time and finally managed to get it properly into a format that is no longer a mere idea. Basically, if you people didn't read the summary and ended up randomly clicking to this fic, Soundwave meets the world of eBay...as a product. It's G1 oriented, and there's only one transformer that does not officially exist in any series of the show. Either way, he's ending up dismantled, so I don't think you people will mind. The Elvis references are due to the opinion of mine and another person that Soundwave's voice is like a messed up Elvis accent. Feel free to debate and think otherwise of it, but the joke might die at that point. Before you G1 fanatics tackle me and tell me that's not what his voice is, let me pathetically explain that I haven't heard his G1 voice. So naturally and narrow mindedly, I have made it so that his voice is the Cybertron series one. That, and the Elvis jokes were a good portion of the plot, so I had to do _something_.

I may make a mistake regarding the ways eBay works, sorry about that. If it doesn't work exactly the way I put it; please bear with it and ignore my lack of knowledge on something I don't use. As for the extensive amounts of breaks added, we all know that many buyers equals many views in a story. Not to mention eBay, which I do not ever plan on owning. Anyway, enjoy.

* * *

It was a wooded area, and a well-known Autobot meeting place for some reason yet to be discovered. That was about to end as a tall, blue and white Decepticon peered through the trees, armed. Suddenly, the sounds of heavy footsteps approaching were caught. "Surveillance mission: intruder detected. Initiating spying procedures for gathering of information." With that, he transformed into his cassette player form, attentive and waiting. When the mech arrived though, a quick probe of the mind dispelled his alarm with a '_I really need to get a map for that slagging base…Sheesh, it's like a maze in there!'_

He then logically figured that if a Decepticon came out here, then no doubt an Autobot would either be driven off or not be here at all. _All these complications…no use now._ He thought, going to change back when something went wrong…. "Main Transformer procedure file corrupted; Accessing backup files... files not located. Error: Transformation sequence corrupt! Procedure aborted!" The attempt failed completely and resulted in the cassette player toppling over and out of the forestry. The purple, green, and black mech looked over with curiosity.

"Eh, what's this?" Blundercrash picked him up. "A cassette recorder? I wonder how many credits I can get off this baby…" he wondered obliviously, then shrugged, somehow not hearing the other's simple protest. "Either way, I'd get something out of it." Soundwave didn't return from his mission that day, obviously.

"Nope." The pawnshop owner said after looking over the cassette player. It was quite embarrassing really for poor Soundwave; getting looked over like that. Even then his interrupted explanation of what happened was ignored.

"Come on…please?" Blundercrash pleaded. He _needed_ those credits!

"No deal and that's final." Was their snap with irritation.

"Why not?.!" He half whined, half begged.

"First of all, someone must of put a memory chip with Elvis songs on it that I cannot find and remove; second, if those are indeed Elvis songs, the speakers are on the fritz; and third, cassette players are outdated!" With that, the owner left into the back room, leaving the newbie 'Con to storm out with an empty wallet. He had to get money somehow…Then a thought hit him.

The human race is quite amusing when you think about it. They manage to have technology advancing so quickly in their society, yet the majority are idiots that don't even use them right or cannot at all. In these cases, they try to dumb them down for that majority, in which even more problems come out. The Internet is one of these technologies. 

Blundercrash logged into the site, trying to remember his password and username. The Internet was becoming more and more common with the Decepticons as a means of entertainment; boredom was often nearby when there were no missions. Megatron disapproved, but would rather have them using inferior technology than causing a ruckus during free time. Even though that would have gave him the perfect excuse to release some… tension from a hard day's battle.

After a few minutes of tinkering around with his old settings, which were sitting around, he prepared for his task and picked up the camera. "Smile for eBay!" Sing-songed the mech. Click! Moments later, there was Soundwave, plastered in the corner near the price and bidding details (with the exclusion of the speaker 'problems'). Now all he had to do was wait…

A few days after that, he received an email announcing that someone bought it for full price. Too bad, the bids would have been even more, probably. At least he could get this virus addled cassette player to shut up or be blocked out by the packaging materials. With some difficulty, Blundercrash shoddily wrapped Soundwave and put him in the minimally filled packaging popcorn of the wooden crate. Finally he could afford that at home polishing kit!

* * *

Ironhide needed spare parts, preferably from a cassette player. He wouldn't admit it, but he was tinkering on a project for some time, and couldn't find certain pieces anywhere! At least he had some resources though. Searching for the site he was looking for, he clicked and navigated until the pages of cassette players being sold were shown. After a few more pages, his search was tiring him until a certain one caught the corner of his optics. It looked a bit more advanced than the others did, and had a great beginning bid price. Even though the flash of the camera reflecting back distorted the front view. Appearance doesn't matter when it would eventually be scrap. With a confident grin on his face, he bid up as high as his budget would allow. But he wasn't the only one looking at the product….

* * *

Alvin Parsel was looking for a cassette player. His other player had broke when those little punks down the street were throwing rocks at his window and one came through, knocking it down to bits on the carpet. He didn't do anything wrong in his mind to deserve it. After all, it's not his fault their dog kept going 15 feet from the fence. It could have _attacked_ him! There was no problem at spraying water at it, for all he was concerned; call it self defense if you will. Anyway, continuing on… 

He looked up on eBay, with his ancient computer that took ten minutes to load per page. Of course, he then had to reload it when he accidentally pushed the 'back' button. Eventually getting to where he wanted an hour later, "No…nope, too square…Ooh this one looks hip!" Meanwhile, several readers collapse to the ground twitching at the old fart's vocabulary. "If it looks 'cool' enough, those brats will leave me alone for sure!" The demented man gave a wheezy laugh and clicked on the 'Buy it now!' button; minutes before Ironhide ever saw it. Which was just enough time to beat him last second, due to how clogged with unchecked viruses and other unknown cyber things lurking in the computer. It was surprising that the thing still functioned, actually.

Three days later, it arrived in a large crate. This confused Alvin, as he only bought a mere cassette player, not an_ elephant_. He gave the wooden box a harsh nudge with his foot, making the poorly packaged, unable to transform mech ram into the side and cause a mental groan. "Eh, why this thing in such a big box anyway?" he voiced his confusion. Deciding to find out rather than wonder, he managed to yank off the top without throwing too much of his back out of place. Cassette player fully out, he gawked. It was huge! The old timer scratched his head and asked to himself, "Where the heck do I play my cassettes?" To his shock, the thing actually spoke!

"Human technology does not function in my systems." The man walked back slowly and stumbled into a dusty recliner. That voice was familiar…

His blood boiled and he shouted, "First you take my girlfriend, and now you come back to take my sanity?.! Why can't you just stay dead, Elvis?.!"

"I am not this 'Elvis' you speak of." He complied, silently itching to get out of that dratted form.

"Of course you are; your spirit took over that crappy cassette player just to haunt me!" He exclaimed with paranoid glances here and there. Overridden by slight curiosity, Soundwave made to read his mind, only to be shoved into a memory.

'_**No, don't leave me!" a (much) younger version of the man shouted, hand outreached at his former girlfriend. "What did I do wrong?.! Just tell me and I won't do it anymore!" **_

_**She shrieked, "You never let me go to my Elvis Presley fanclub meetings, that's what!" and stormed out of the room, leaving a mentally shattered teenage boy in his living room. His one true love, driven away because of that cursed Elvis!**_

As soon as the mech recovered from the sheer stupidity of the memory itself, the old man began hauling him back into the crate, huffing, "Well, you aren't going to do that any longer!" Thus, after many kicks to the box, and visit to the unsafe chunk of lead known as a 'computer', he was once again going to be shipped off. Shortly after it was purchased and sent out, his virus infested tribute to the dangers of the Internet exploded, sending the Elvis hater into a heart attack. Was it karma? Was it a revenge on the dog's behalf? No one knows.

* * *

The Ark woke up to a traumatized, "NOOOOOO!" from a certain red and gray mech in his quarters. When Optimus and assorted reinforcements arrived, all they saw was a kneeling and somewhat angsty Ironhide. Confused, the white, blue, and red leader asked, "What happened?" Ironhide raised his head and answered them in a dramatic voice. 

"I…I got outbid on eBay!" All that stormed into his room filed out, grumbling about false alarms and lack of sleep, with the exception of Commander Prime, whose light-blue optics were dangerously narrow as he gave Ironhide one of the most frightening looks the red and gray Autobot had ever seen from is friend in his thousands of years of life.

"Ironhide, I think you and I are going to have a _long_ talk," Prime's optics turned into slits as he paused. "In my office... _now,_" He finished, and giving his stunned friend one last look, turned and took two long steps over the threshold of the door and started down the hallway. Ironhide swallowed hard, shut of his computer, and followed the red, blue, and silver Autobot, dreading the lecture he _knew_ he was about to get...

Later after all the commotion (and circuit frying lecture), he just decided to go for the cheapest one there. Honestly, who cares if it's damaged? There was the perfect one, too. Speakers shot, plays demonic music…it works. Though the 'demonic music' portion was odd to put as a condition. Nothing a dismantling can't do! Learning from his prior mistake and morning call, he bought it full out. It was cheap enough to do anyway, the price was so low. The very next day…

"Huh? What's this…?" One of the other Autobots picked up the badly shut together crate. Ironhide, walking by at the time, saw the package and ran over.

"Mine!" With that he snatched it (thus rattling the contents even more) and darted off like an insane madman that found the perfect formula. Who knew he was a chemist? Once again in the sanctuary of his room, he ripped open the package like a child with a present on Christmas day. When he took the cassette player out, the first reaction was shock and glee; it was the cassette player that he wanted to get in the first place! The glee faded to nothingness when he turned it over to see a familiar color scheme and Decepticon symbol… "Oh my Primus!" He howled, "It's Soundwave!" Still disgruntled from last time's incident, some mechs -as usual, accompanied by Optimus Prime- walked in, skeptical. Optimus sighed.

"What is it now?"

"Soundwave, that's what!" He said hysterically. "Look for yourselves!" He held up the front side of the large cassette player and instantaneously all weapons were raised. The finally recognized 'Con sighed with weariness and irritation. A miniature debate was soon started.

"I say we just terminate him!" One declared.

"And then get the Decepticons massively angry and unleash their full force on us? No thanks." Another countered.

"We could always just send him back on eBay…" Ironhide suggested.

"SHUT UP!" The whole group minus Optimus turned on him. He slumped his shoulders dejectedly. The magnanimous leader spoke up with such a suggestion mentioned.

"How about we bring him back to Megatron?" There was an awkward silence.

"And _why_ would we do that?" asked a mech who was along the support of frying the cassette player.

"One, this way we can avoid a major conflict. Two, he looks as battered up as he needs to be. Any other questions as to why we're doing this?" They grudgingly stayed quiet, as it was their leader who in a way commanded them to deliver him back and deal with it. "Good."

* * *

"Where is he?.!" Megatron fumed, pacing back and forth, ranting. "It's been a week and we still haven't gotten a message from him! The searches end up as failures!" One of the more tolerant mechs merely resigned himself to shopping online, nodding here and there to his outbursts. 

"Maybe he took a vacation?" he asked, not really caring. Megatron glowered at his back.

"What are you doing on that clearly inefficient human networking system?" He growled. The other shrugged.

"Buying. There's no 'eBay' or any other trading/purchasing areas otherwise." Returning to his business despite the possible wrath coming to him, he whistled in amusement moments later, "Look, that Decepticon symbol of yours is turning into a fashion statement!" He came over and looked at the page showing Soundwave. Realization dawned on him instantly.

"That's no fashion statement, that's my officer!" He snarled, pushing him aside in his seat and looking closer. He swore more than should be mentioned when the 'bid ended' status appeared. Suddenly, the intruder alert system went off, interrupting his rage. On screen, a delivery truck weaved and avoided blasts, tossing out a peculiar sized crate before turning around and speeding off to save their neck. The deliveryman was very practiced on that route. Alerts off, he went out and retrieved the package. Inside was a very dented, scratched up, and dizzy Soundwave. "Send him to the med bay immediately!" The leader snapped.

* * *

His optics turned on, though he did not know when they went offline in the first place. A few looks around in the med bay and he noticed that he was back in his normal form. A conversation could be heard with a voice that rang a bell somewhere… 

"Have you tried that at home polishing kit, Scrapper? It's utter crap! I sent it back as soon as it scratched my armor. The refund wasn't much though."

"Are you kidding?.! I can't even afford something like that. Where'd you get the credits?"

"I sold some crappy trinket I saw near the trees a week ago. The pawnshop wouldn't take it so I put on that one eBay site." Now he remembered it; that was the same mech who sold him to begin with! The two medics walked back in the room, still talking.

"There aren't many crappy trinkets that sell for that much around here, what was it anyway?" Scrapper asked. Blundercrash shrugged.

"A cassette player." The other mech froze in realization.

"You didn't just say that..." Scrapper muttered. "Oh Blundercrash, you're going to be slag..." No sooner had he said it did Soundwave slowly sit up and pull himself off the medical berth. The communications officer's yellow-orange optics flashed with a silent fury, and Blundercrash's optics widened in horror.

"You wouldn't…?.!"

"... I'll see you in the morning, _disassembled_. Hopefully all the pieces will be there to put back together." He left the bay, leaving Blundercrash with a vengeful Soundwave…

Later, a fully repaired Soundwave walked up to Megatron. "Blundercrash will not be causing any more disturbances or disappearances for a long while, if ever..." It seemed that a certain medic's virus that went to Soundwave earlier, started acting up on himself; now he was in the hands of an old war veteran who was looking for a plane of his own.

His last transmission anyone actually attempted to hear, was "Heeeeeelp meeee...!"

The 'Cons looked around in confusion and others, disinterest; Megatron said to himself, "I could of sworn I heard something..."

* * *

Muaha, I give credit to my friend for some nifty edits and fixing up that I probably wouldn't have caught onto. By the way... if it's not too much trouble to do so, I'd like to ask you to review. It only takes a minute at most, and I'd gladly appreciate it.  



End file.
